Foreground
by madeofchalk
Summary: Chuck doesn't come back and Blair shocks the Upper East Side when she declares she's leaving for Culinary School – but Dan doesn't look surprised. After all, it's what Audrey would have done. Dair!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer : I do not own Gossip Girl.**

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**Foreground**

_~ sprinkles everywhere, candy hearts and bruises_

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She can't really think of a better time to do this.

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It's in the middle of July and they've all recently graduated. There is no clear whereabouts about Chuck except for a few GG blasts here and there. Serena tans by the pool in her yellow bikini, making boys and girls alike blush fierce red and Nate misses his best friend and finds no one else to confide to than Daniel Humphrey.

Blair Waldorf clenches the letter in her hands as they all arrive. Yale is off the question and no elite school will take her at this time of the year and especially not with her reputation. She tells herself that it is for the best and her father does sound excited when she tells him that she'll be close to him and of course, he offers her a room and she is thinking about it instead of an apartment. She'll never turn time with her father away.

They all arrive together, which isn't a surprise at all. Serena is clutching both of their arms. Nate looks hazy to her, almost like he isn't really there. Humphrey has yet to improve on his clothing style. She took the table in the middle of the room, the white cloth on it adding to the formal effect. This is not just some luncheon that they always have and drink a little too much wine.

She hides the letter in her red Coach purse and watches as Serena purrs her name out in her sultry voice and wraps her tanned arms around her neck (this is Serena and this is Blair and it will always be Serena and Blair because it can be just Serena, but there is never just Blair, her name always attracting someone else's. Nate and Blair. Chuck and Blair).

Nate kisses her on the check and Humphrey – well he clearly doesn't know what he is doing here. He doesn't know the surest way to attract Serena is to make sure he is here, because, like her, his name always comes up with someone else's.

"I wanted to tell you something." God forbid, she'd steal the spotlight just for a few seconds. Nate hums and Serena tries to pay attention and Humphrey, well his attention is all on her. And she wonders why, why he bothers. "I'm leaving for France, in August. I'm going to attend school there."

"But B…" Here is the protest, the Serena Van Der Woodsen doe eyes and the surprise frown and why, oh why, was she not born with beautiful blue eyes and long, wavy blond hair, the one meant for the spotlight and men's attention.

Nathaniel says that, he knows she'll do better there than at NYU. She's leaving at the beginning of August and it leaves her barely a month to make sure everything is in order before her departure. Her mother has Cyrus, Dorota is seeing that Russian lad and Serena is still the doe eyed girl she's met all those years ago. Everyone she cares for is set. Her eyes meet Humphrey's as Serena tries to come up supportive words.

She briefly wonders if he sometimes wishes that he'd been born with the light brown hair and the light blue eyes.

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Serena offers her a ride and Nate doesn't mind riding with them, but both look appalled when she wants to walk to her house, which is a few blocks away. Brooklyn offers and she doesn't quite smile, merely nods her head.

They are halfway there when he starts talking again.

"I hear they have great culinary schools in Paris." Something inside of her freezes and it takes her everything not to stop dead in her tracks and gap at him. But she is Blair Waldorf and Blair Waldorf doesn't gap.

"How?" And then he looks at her, really looks at her and he rolls his eyes and he is the only one from Brooklyn that would dare roll his eyes at Blair Waldorf.

"It's what Audrey would have done, Blair." And he says it as though it's the most obvious answer, as if everybody should know that her life long fantasies have been about Audrey Hepburn.

She can't even answer him with some smart comment because – because in a way he is right, although the fact that Dan Humphrey from Brooklyn knows her more than the people she grew with (and maybe Chuck would have known, he'd always known about her dreams and her passion, but he is not here and he is Humphrey and it isn't right).

"Goodnight Blair." She's never paid attention to the way he said her name before.

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It's all packed.

Dorota says she'll help, but Blair is already finished when the maid walks in. Everything worth anything to her is hidden in one of the expensive, black suitcases. Indispensible accesories are stored in her purse, like her passport and her latest YSL lip gloss that makes her lips a shade lighter. Her Dior sunglasses push her hair back from her face and she chooses a simple green summer dress.

She leaves tomorrow and suddenly everyone remembers she exists (no, not him and he doesn't even bother with a phone call, but it's okay and he is far away). Serena swings by clutching Nate's arm to take her to lunch. Her mother takes her afternoon off so they can enjoy tea and somehow create a nice family memory.

It's only when Humphrey shows up at her door, hands hidden in his pocket and with his bored, but too aware look that she knows the world has gone mad.

"Fancy a drink?" And yes, here the world stops and she falls into the abyss. Humphrey is offering her a drink, in the dead of the night, in New York. _Her_. It's already past eight and she should be resting for the tedious plane ride that awaits tomorrow.

"I'll go get my purse." It's happening again. Her mouth and her body have been disconnected from her brain and she does find herself climbing the stairs of her town house to get her black Prada purse. When she comes back, he is talking to Dorota with that same expression from before and yet makes the woman swoon with extensive vocabulary and a hint of kindness.

Something tugs at her heart, but she ignores it with sharp clicks of her black heels and grabs Brooklyn by the arm.

"Let's go." And she is touching him, the hand she has on his arm gripping even more as he says goodbye to Dorota. What impresses her (and him also, because Dan Humphrey just has to notice every single little detail) is that she doesn't shudder with repulsion. When she finally releases him, he blinks at her – his expression not so bored anymore and is that a smirk she sees?

"If you wanted to touch me Waldorf, you only had to ask." She let's out chuckle and he knows exactly what it means.

"I wouldn't have had to if you weren't so slow." And it's back to snappy comebacks and just like that the world starts spinning again and everything goes back to normal.

There is this balance, a balance they have created over the last two years. And even as they walk the busy streets and they share jokes about things that the people surrounding them wouldn't understand about old cinema, the balance must remain. Because if there is no balance and that eventually, the lines of hatred blur… they both shudder at the thought.

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"Don't cry." What she means to say is 'don't make a scene', but even she feels tears threatening to fall as Serena hugs her for the seventh time. It's annoying and her hair will probably frizz (because we can't all have perfectly messy blond hair when we wake up) and she doesn't want to be late for her plane. She's running on one hour of sleep and three coffee cups from Starbucks.

Of course, Serena looks beautiful today and Nate isn't too far away. She loves her blond best friend and her ex-boyfriend now turned best friend also, but they are both to sickeningly perfect it makes her want to hurl.

'_You have to take care of them. When it comes to practical thinking, these two aren't the best.' _She shakes her head because it is true and now that she is leaving (and that Chuck is nowhere near the Tri-State area) it falls on Humphrey, the commoner, to take care of these two. It's the best she can do in such a short notice.

"I love you, B." Humphrey doesn't come to say goodbye and she's glad. The whole thing would have been awkward and suspicious. Her mother sends her a text because she is too busy and her father will be picking her up in six hours.

"I love you too, S." And she does mean it in someway. She is Blair Waldorf and her best friend is Serena Van Der Woodsen and it will always be that way. She can't imagine anyone else in that role. Her luggage has been checked in, Dorota is crying (unlike her mother) and Nate just stands there, white teeth like pearls. "This is only goodbye."

She'll come back eventually. She'll come back when looking at everything here won't hurt so much and when the darkness in her heart has been drained away. Then, she agrees with herself, she'll come back: stronger than ever.

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Blair Waldorf excels at cooking – but that doesn't surprise her. She is being formed and moulded by the best, to become the best. Her teacher, a good looking man close to his mid thirties appreciates her enough, he even let's her use the kitchen whenever she asks, even when the class is long finished and there is no one but her and cooking pans.

Her father loves having her around; he also loves the way she makes those red velvet cupcakes that go so well with earl grey, on a sunny afternoon. Roman takes her shopping everywhere she pleases and she even makes a friend or two. It's after three months of breathing the Parisian air that she finally allows herself to miss New York and when she bothers to check her e-mails, the inbox is full.

Serena chats about random places and how she gets manicures, but it's not the same without her. Nate keeps her updated: he hasn't died from an overdose. It's only when she scrolls down a bit more that she notices the single e-mail he sent her. Dan Humphrey to Blair Waldorf.

'It's certainly not the same without you ruling the Upper East Side.' It makes her smile. She writes Serena a short, quick e-mail, tells Nate to not give in to his leafy demons and takes a good thirty minutes to write back to Humphrey because he is the literal type and he'll understand every allusion to 'Sabrina'.

It's too week later when she receives his response. He says that Serena has started drinking again and that last night she decided to go swimming in a pond. He misses her headbands (but she doesn't wears them anymore, she settles for pony tails and Dolce & Gabbana high-waist shorts and comfortable Chanel t-shirts). She's changed. Her father says she looks more laid back, at peace he even dares after one supper where he's had a little too much wine – and maybe it's true.

'When are you coming back?'

In two years time, she'll go back. She'll be back with a degree from one of the most sought out culinary school's and with a new perspective and the black thing in her heart has already started to drain (because she doesn't think about Chuck when she's baking and it helps, but late at night visions of his face still haunt her and she has to breathe).

And everything will change, because she won't be Blair Waldorf who stays hidden in the shadow of her blond best friend or her mother. She still loves fashion, but cooking has a therapeutic effect and she can even dream of owning a restaurant one day: a very expensive and lush one.

She tells that to Humphrey, sends the e-mail with shaky fingers and her thoughts are racing. He answers two days later with a 'good luck' and 'tell me when you're back, I'll arrange a committee to pick you up'. In those lines she reads 'I miss you' and she hopes she isn't mistaken.

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Time flies by when you are happy. She doesn't go back for the summer, wants to spend more time with her fathers. They walk through the Champs Elysees and when they are too tired, she goes to the Louvre alone. She spends an awful lot of time on the top of the Eiffel tower and even get's a few proposal for drinks by young and very French Parisians – she declines all of them because forgetting Chuck the same way he is forgetting her is beneath her.

She doesn't wear the dresses she was so fond of anymore. Roman buys her a new wardrobe, trying to ease the guilt he feels. The clothes are perfect, simple and expensive, things she would have never worn before because apparently she's got fat thighs and ugly knees. But the guilt isn't necessary and she tells him so. Her father is much more happy here, in a chateau, with a good man, than in New York where everything is frowned upon and gossip follows you like a tail.

Roman hugs her.

Vacations end a bit too quickly for her taste (she doesn't even get to finish her latest biography of Audrey Hepburn) and she is back to school with an apron and those cooking pans. She learns to grill steak like a true queen and makes a 'Roti' like no other. Her teacher this year, an old French man, doesn't really socialise and badgers all of them constantly.

But she does graduate. She is twenty and is Blair Waldorf and somehow the black thing in her heart has emptied itself while gazing at historical paintings and beautiful sceneries and cooking medium rare steaks. Those vivid dreams are gone and she can breathe well enough to go and look at Gossip Girl's website without fear of something on Chuck deflating her pride.

And like she promised herself, at the end of her school year and with a degree from one of the most sought after culinary schools, she goes back to New York (and she goes back with dreams and hopes and a new perspective and new clothes and with memories of her father and Roman smiling hand in hand and with a new will to live a little).

She boards the plane (a private plane, of course) and her father cries a bit because he will miss her and she loves him. Roman is holding him tenderly and blows her a kiss. If she weren't sure she was ready, she'd stay here.

But Blair Waldorf keeps her promises, especially those she makes to herself.

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**A/N : What did you think? I'd really like to know what you think and your opinions and if I made Blair any justice at all. I'd like to believe that, beyond her cold stone facade there is something else... well, I'd love to hear feedbacks. I hope you enjoyed. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Foreground**

_~ If you never, held me under, if you never hear my thunder_

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It's a simple knock, confident and hard and just one knock, but it conveys much more. In that single action, her world crumbles at her feet. Paris becomes New York, nice summer cafés become smog filled lunches on fake terrace, wood tables and expensive wines become stainless steal and Starbucks coffee – dinners with her fathers turn into an empty house where her mother barely steps foot into anymore.

Blair has always been the one for theatrics.

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Dan Humphrey doesn't think about Blair Waldorf. He'll nod his head at Serena when she's a little too drunk and has to be carried out. He'll smile at Nate trying to be comforting when he's on a trip down memory lane because of his leafy friends. He'll see the way Chuck parades around a new brunette every two or three months. He'll laugh at Jenny's off-hand comments even though she is glad to be reign queen – but he won't think about her.

A few e-mails here and there and then it stops. He wonders why, but two years pass and she's probably busy. So he writes, even gets a few of his short stories about the Upper East Side published. He has an agent, he appears in magazines and he's even got book deals. But Serena is just a broken muse and he can't find anything to write about blue-eyed princesses.

He gets into Brown and Columbia. The latter peaks his interest with their writing program and he takes a few classes, crashing at Lily's once in a while. Vanessa calls him uptight while she is having an affair with the producer of the play she is working on (she's quite smitten with his work) . He's married, the wedding band evident on his finger.

But life doesn't really move on from her absence. Serena is careless, Nate is guilty, Chuck cannot forget her (his latest conquest wears headbands), Jenny is trying to live up to her and it somehow falls on him to replace her.

Dan has never been one for the theatrics of the Upper East Siders.

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There are many things that can come from this. He could kick her out, he could flat out refuse to let her in and the voyage would have been for nothing.

"Blair…" His eyes light up with disbelief (but is there amusement she sees pooling in those brown orbs?) This reaction, she doesn't expect. She also doesn't expect him to push the door of his loft wide open and grab two of her three suitcases without even a question (and then she has to remember that this is Dan Humphrey and not the socialites she grew up with).

"Coffee?" She nods absently. The loft has barely changed, except that now it seems emptier, more like lonely boy. He rummages in the kitchen, cups being taken out and the coffee machine brings back souvenirs of her experiences (and it's almost pleasant, the way his back arches as he reaches for the milk and sugar). She sits down on one of the stools, not really knowing what else to do than to watch him (and is that what Serena did all those years ago?)

"Have you eaten yet? It must have been a long flight." She arches an eyebrow as he places the fuming cup in front of her.

"I never pegged you for small talk, Humphrey." There it is, the spark of amusement – yet again.

"Would you rather I ask why you're three days early and in Brooklyn?" It's a rhetorical question. She bites her lip and he hums while taking a sip of his coffee. "That's what I thought. So, breakfast?" It's eight o'clock in the morning and yet it doesn't look like she woke him up. Has he always been an early riser (like her) or is this a new trait of personality? And that lingering amusement, has it always been there or has the Upper East Side finally rubbed on him too much?

"If you give me time to shower, I'll cook." And it's been a long flight, her white blouse clinging to her body. He nods.

"Of course, make yourself at home." She grabs her Armani travel bag and disappears into the bathroom. This is so unlike what she had been expecting.

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She emerges half an hour later with wet hair, high waist jeans and a black long sleeved shirt. Dan doesn't question the fact that her outfit cost more than most of his furniture, but it's the most normal looking he's ever since her. She's thinner, somehow, but not in an unhealthy way. And as she walks past him and starts looking for decent cooking pans (which he doesn't have, not to Blair Waldorf's standards anyways) he knows why it shocks him so much.

She looks relaxed, a relaxed twenty-year-old woman.

His latest book is sitting in front of him, forgotten as he sees her bend to get a better look at what is inside his fridge. She hums a recipe in a low voice as she grabs the eggs, the butter, lemon juice and English muffins. She then goes to the cupboard, frowns and then grabs the cayenne pepper (which has been there since his mom left), salt and vinegar. Finally, she grabs the leftover ham that Nate thought was so funny last time he was piss drunk.

She's cutting and slowly frying the ham; while in another pot she's putting water and vinegar and three egg yolks, the lemon juice and the butter. She adds a bit of salt, to taste and then turns around to see him stare.

"Tell me, Humphrey…" She says, going back to her Hollandaise. "How's Serena?" She cracks one egg into a bowl and slowly places it into the third pot filled warm water. He doesn't know how she can concentrate on all that at once.

"I thought you'd been reading Gossip Girl, Blair." He sighs. "Obviously, she's been lost since you left." He expects her to smirk or at least to see some happiness in her eyes. Nothing. She doesn't even turn around. "And Nate's been keeping himself busy – with the worst kind of people." You'd think after seeing his father go down, he wouldn't fall too.

He doesn't bring up Chuck, thinks it would ruin the moment. The English muffins are ready and toasted and she packs it up with a layer of ham, one of the poached egg and a generous amount of cream. She places the fuming plate in front of him and he realizes, pathetically, that this is his first homemade breakfast in a year.

"It didn't have anything to do with me. Serena was bound to fall. Nate is just lost." It's like she's talking to herself and not to him. She rolls her eyes and sits down next to him at the counter with her plate. He raises half of the finely made egg benedict to his mouth and adds.

"Or, maybe we just missed you." And then he bites and chews thoroughly, enjoying not only the taste (which is amazing, but of course it would be and this is Blair Waldorf) but also the way her eyebrow cocks up.

Somewhere, deep inside, he might not have thought about Blair Waldorf – but he did miss her.

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Somewhere along the day she spends lounging around his loft, she expects a few questions.

But he doesn't ask anything.

He says: "what movie do you want to watch?" but he should be asking how long she plans to stay. He wants to know "how was school?" when he should be shaking her up and asking her what she's doing here. But he holds Breakfast at Tiffany's in his hand and the oddity of the situation is forgotten.

He can ask after Audrey Hepburn.

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In a way, she's glad he doesn't want answers, because she doesn't even know them.

When she comes back three days earlier and the taxi driver wants to know where she's going (and there is a pause – she'll bother her mother, doesn't want the Serena Van Der Woodsen doe eyes or Nate's lack of proper communication skills) the only address that pops up is his. It has been two years since their last encounter and almost a year and a half since she last talked to him.

But a loft in Brooklyn had seemed more welcoming than a chastising mother.

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"Should we order in or do you want to go out?" Here, he expects a comment about how food in Brooklyn is tasteless and probably poisonous from the lack of hygiene of the places. He doesn't get any of that (this might be Blair Waldorf, but this is not the same Blair Waldorf from two years ago).

"Are you asking me out, Humphrey?" She's teasing, her smirk tainted with evilness.

"Are you agreeing to it?" He says, cool smile on. He can play that game too, has had two years to practice.

And then she surprises him (and herself too) and laughs out loud. It's the first time he's ever heard her laugh with mirth and teeth and even after a few seconds she has to put her hand in front of her mouth to stifle the giggles.

"Sure." She smiles, perfectly shaped lips painted red parting and he smiles back. No, this is definitely not the same Blair Waldorf who managed an army of miniatures her once upon high school.

He doesn't know who this is, but he quite enjoys her.

Especially when she sits up like this.

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Had anyone told her she'd be sitting in a restaurant in Brooklyn with Dan Humphrey two years ago, she would have laughed, called the person crazy, flipped her hair over her shoulder and ordered a salad. But here, the pizza is great and she enjoys his company.

The owner, a small woman with an apron around her waist, greets him with kisses on the cheeks and tells her she's pretty (much more than his blonde ex-girlfriend). She already likes it and even dares sharing a pizza with him when he comments on how great it is.

She is perfectly aware that she is going against everything that has ever been taught to her. And she is also aware about how comfortable they are around one another (and the balance they had created so long ago when he was lonely boy and she was queen B is long gone – because she is no longer the Manhattan headband wearing princess and he is no longer the untouched loner). He's munching and talking and commenting and his mouth moves, making small conversation.

But if she is no longer Upper East Side royalty, what exactly does that make her? No more dreams of tiaras or expensive penthouses. Living in a chateau, rhetorically, has made her appreciated the underrated part of cities and what they have to offer.

"Don't you want to know?" She looks up from her plate, the half-eaten vegetable slice looking at her dejectedly. She has no idea what he is talking about. But from that serious look (all raised eyebrows and sheer curiosity) gives her a hint.

"What?"

"Don't you want to see them? I mean, they're bound to come looking for you." She has thought about this and just decided that when they'll find out, they'll find out. It's a wonder how long one can hide in the same city as the ones looking for her.

"Yes and no." He nods, as if he understands that (that she missed them of course, but they missed the old controlling Blair Waldorf who was lost and completely head over heels with the devil himself and that she doubts they'll recognize her and that she's scared, just plain scared of not belonging anymore) it's much more complicated then it seems.

"They have really good chocolate mouse here…" And it's back to mindless chitchat.

The chocolate mousse isn't so great, it's too sugary and she can make better.

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He opens a bottle of wine. It's a red wine, one Serena left over and never opened, its expensive.

He thinks it's fascinating to share a glass with Blair Waldorf, especially in his loft and in Brooklyn –and this odd day has certainly warranted a few sips of alcohol (or a whole bottle). She drinks her wine slow, the red liquid staining her lip in the most luscious way.

"You can sleep in Jenny's room." He expects a protest or at least some kind of huff, but she doesn't even blink and turns to stare at him. Those eyes are clouded with so many things he doesn't know where to start and doesn't even know if he wants to start.

Before they go to bed and the bottle of wine is almost empty, he hears a soft 'thank you'.

It baffles him to no end as he gets into his bed.

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The next day is almost the same, except they order in. They watch Roman Holiday (he doesn't ask if she wants to watch Sabrina and she's a little greatful) and Rosemary's Baby. She makes comments and he replies with the same spark has her.

They understand each other.

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_Spotted: Seems like our Queen B is back and slumming it down in Brooklyn with our resident Lonely Boy. Hide and seek is over, B. It's time to come back and play with us. And you know how much I enjoy a good game._

_You know you love me, xoxo_

_Gossip Girl._

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It's seven o'clock in the morning when pounding wakes her up. It also wakes him up because she can hear him groaning and walking towards the door in slow steps. Do people usually come barging this early in Brooklyn?

But walking towards the door, she can hear a voice. He's trying to hush it up, because the woman on the other side of the door is clearly upset. The voice is breaking and starts to crumble with each word.

Even before he opens the door, she can recognize Serena's voice.

She's not the only one in the Upper East Side who has a flair for theatrics.

After all, she learnt from the best.

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**A/N : It's been a long while, I know. Now that this chapters over it, I'll get to the good stuff - I just needed to get the new Blair out on the open with a few transitions. How do you enjoy this new relaxed Blair? Thank you all for your lovely reviews, you don't know how much this means to me. Hope you enjoyed.**


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